


Hoes Before Bros

by Lady_Melanthe



Series: Sexual Adventures of Liam and Brandon [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abandonment, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bathroom Sex, Boypussy, Cock Rings, Cock Slut, Cock Warming, Come Marking, Come Swallowing, Hardcore, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Pedophilia, Piercings, Punishment, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sex Toys, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Punishment, Training, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 04:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Melanthe/pseuds/Lady_Melanthe
Summary: Choices are made that cause a rift in the boys’ relationship.





	Hoes Before Bros

**Author's Note:**

> When we last left the boys, Liam had just asked Brandon to help him escape. What will Brandon do? Will he help his friend, or will he turn against Liam in exchange for John? Read on to find out!
> 
> As usual, I do NOT condone any of the acts featured in this story. This is a fictional work mentioning entirely fictional people, and I don't support people do this stuff in real life.

Brandon wouldn’t—couldn’t look at Liam. He felt sick. He felt so sick, like at any moment he may vomit, or cry, or both. He didn’t want to leave John. He was happier than he’d ever been with the man despite his circumstances.

“Brandon!” Liam whispered a bit louder. He shook the boy by the shoulder. His chains jingled together, and the noise seemed louder than it had any right to be in the silence of the apartment.

Brandon looked at Liam.

His throat had become dry, so he nodded, at first unable to speak. “Okay,” he stuttered out. “I’ll get the key.”

Liam was thrilled. His face beamed with joy as he watched Brandon rise from the couch and limp off down the hall, his ass still stained with bruises and dried semen.

lXl

John appeared to be sleeping deeply in bed. The lights from the city and the half-moon illuminated his still form. Brandon watched him from the doorway for a few moments, slowly soaking in what he was doing.

Just when he was just on that edge of rising panic—of backing out and pretending Liam never asked a thing of him—he entered the room. It was now or never for the boy. Either he was going to get the key, or risk losing Liam’s trust forever.

John shifted as Brandon drew close. He gave a deep sigh that expanded his broad chest. The ripped muscles of his arms flexed beneath the skin as he pulled the covers up over his body.

Brandon stilled. He knew he wasn’t holding his breath, but each one he tried to take felt evenly impossible.

The key to Liam’s cuffs shone brighter than anything in the room, silver and reflecting every ounce of light that came in through the window. Brandon waited until John had stilled entirely before he shuffled closer.

He wondered what John would think when he woke up the next morning; when he opened his eyes and saw Brandon and Liam missing—the key, gone. Would he be angry? Furious? Would he miss Brandon, or regret having ever trusted him to begin with? And would he look for him; for either of the boys? That’s what Brandon feared most; not that he _would_ come angrily looking for who betrayed him, but that John wouldn’t care enough to even try.

John shifted again, just as Brandon’s hand hovered over the tiny key. Brandon froze, and this time he truly did hold his breath until his lungs ached.

When the tears came up in his eyes it wasn’t for the lack of oxygen, but rather from the guilt.

Brandon picked up the key. In his mind, it was heavier than it should be, like a brick in his hand instead.

He turned and made his way to his side of the bed. The boy moved slowly as he redressed in the clothes that John made him strip from earlier that night. He was putting on his pants when he glanced the clock. 1:19 am. It was so late—early? —maybe he could use that to dissuade Liam from wanting to leave tonight; buy him just one more day of bliss before leaving John forever.

John grunted and rolled over as Brandon made his way back to the bedroom door. The boy didn’t see the man open his eyes, see them focus in on him as clarity returned.

“I thought you loved me.”

His sleep rough voice made Brandon’s heart lurch and his stomach twist. The boy turned around and was shocked to see John, fully awake and observing the boy with an aloof gaze.

Brandon was taken aback. “I—I—I do—I do love you!”

John’s eyes never strayed from the boy as he rose with predatory grace. He was still nude from earlier, and while Brandon was aware of his situation, he couldn’t stop the slight shiver in his loins from seeing the man’s imposing—albeit flaccid—girth.

John approached the boy who was to terrified and frozen in place to run. “This is an awful way to show it, baby. It really is.”

The man was alarmingly calm considering what Brandon was trying to do. This made Brandon fright of what was to come even worse.

John touched Brandon’s chin. His thumb outlined Brandon’s jaw and up to the boy’s cheekbones.

“I’ve given you everything, haven’t I?” John’s voice was low and even, only the slight bite at the end of his question giving any hint to his rage.

Brandon swallowed back the lump in his throat and nodded. He tried to smile and butter the man up, touching John with a shaking hand.

“I love you,” he whimpered. “I—I just wanted Liam to be happy. He—he said—he’s just doesn’t like being tied up and stuff. I just wanted to—”

John clamped his hand over the boy’s mouth. He shushed him and pressed his lips to his forehead.

Brandon’s whimpered was muffled by the large palm pressed against his lips.

“It’s okay, Brandon, I understand now.” He nuzzled the boy’s hair. “I understand completely.”

lXl

_‘Ugh, what’s taking him so long?’_ Liam pondered. He looked back down the hall but didn’t see Brandon.

He groaned and slowly began to believed that everything Brandon had told him was a lie. For all he knew, Brandon was in there right now, warning John and _begging_ him to make Liam stay in this hell like he did before.

_‘I should have never trusted that stupid bastard.’_

Liam started tugging on his chains, hoping to pop one of the links loose so he could make a run for it.

“I take back what I said about you being smart.”

Liam jumped and spun around. John was standing behind him—behind the couch. Once he had the boy’s attention, he made his way around to the front, one hand thumping against the upholstery while the other remained shoved in the pocket of his unbuttoned pants.

His hardened expression and his wide bright eyes startled the boy.

_‘Brandon really did rat me out!’_ Liam believed.

John shook his head, disgust evident. “Brandon was perfect. I really mean that. He was sweet and innocent and so _easy_ to manipulate. We had a good thing going for between us, but you couldn’t stand that, could you?”

He kneeled in front of the boy. “You can’t stand him being happy. After all the shit he has put up with to keep you happy, and you just can’t let him—us—be happy? You just had to try and turn him against me?”

Liam gritted his teeth. “I just want to go home.”

John chuckled but it was dark; vicious. “ _You_ want to go home? Who will be there waiting for you, hm? The father you turned into the police? Do you really think that—if he were still there—he’d want anything to do with you?”

When Liam, on the verge of crying, failed to answer him, John laughed again.

“Exactly. There’s no one out there for you. There’s no one anywhere for you. Well, I take that back. There was Brandon, maybe. I don’t know why, but for some goddamn reason he just keeps holding on to you, yet you keep pushing him away. No wonder why you’re still by your fucking self. And me? I tried to give you another chance, but you fucked that up too when you got my baby to steal _this_ for you.”

John pulled out the key from his pocket. He waved it tauntingly in front of Liam, who followed it with large wanting blue eyes.

“This is what you want, right? Here. Take it.” The man forced it into Liam’s hand.

Liam was bewildered. His eyes flickered back and forth between John and the key.

“You really want to go, don’t you? Then go. I meant it when I said I won’t keep anyone who doesn’t want to be here.”

John walked back around the couch and retrieved Liam’s suitcase. “Here you go. Everything you had is in here.”

Liam was hesitant to take it. He was certain this had to be a trick; a trap.

John shooed him towards the front door. “Go on. Be free!” he said mockingly. When Liam continued to hesitate, John pulled him up from the couch and nudged him towards the front door. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet.”

Liam scowled. “No way!” He jerked away from John, snatched up his suitcase and stomped towards the door. “Tell that snitch, Brandon, I said ‘fuck you’! Oh, and fuck you too, for… I don’t know, just fuck you, you creep. I’m out of here!”

He slammed the door on his way out, shaking the photos on the wall.

lXl

John shut the bedroom door behind him.

“It’s just you and me now, baby.”

Brandon whined from behind the makeshift gag. His arm ached from the unusual angle it was forced at, the fuzzy purple handcuffs clamped around his wrist keeping it that way. His clothes were now askew on this thin body and the beginnings of a bruise were forming along his throat.

John swept his dark hair from his face as he came to Brandon’s side. “He didn’t ask where you were. I feel that you should know that. He didn’t ask about you at all.”

It felt, to the boy, as if his heart had plummeted down into his stomach. It felt worse than his heart breaking—he’d had his heart broken once, back in sixth grade—and he felt he could crumble into intangible pieces right there on John’s floor.

He didn’t realize that he’d started to cry until John wiped his tears away.

“Shh. Don’t cry yet, Brandon. It’ll be okay.” The man touched his chin, tiling his head up to look at him. “I gave him his precious key, and now we don’t have to worry about him anymore. It’ll just be me and you from now on.”

He trailed his thumb through the saliva dripping down his chin. Brandon hated how he leaned into the touch. Now wasn’t the time to be mesmerized by John’s touches, he tried to tell himself.

“Of course," John’s caring touch turned callous.  "I can’t just forget about your defiance, can I? You'll have to be punished.” 

Brandon trembled, fear rising at the implication. 

lXl

Brandon wasn’t sure which was worse; John’s punishments or John’s ire. The man hardly referred to him as his baby anymore, and when he did there was a slight bite at the end of each syllable. Brandon hated this. He didn’t want John’s resentment. He didn’t want the cold sideways glances he was given most mornings, or the curt words spoken in the evenings. He wanted the goodbye kisses that John used to give him before he went to work, and the sly smirks flashed at dinner right before John would sweep him from his chair and place him firmly on his lap.

But no, Brandon wasn’t allowed these things, because he had angered John. He betrayed John’s trust and for who? The so-called friend who deserted him.

John’s aloofness made this abandonment all the worst. Most days Brandon would curl up in the bedroom, stark naked atop the comforter with a low thrumming vibrator in his sore hole, and weep. The only time John touched him was to either to alternate the ever-present toys or dildos in his ass or to savagely fuck Brandon before he went to sleep. Brandon never felt lonelier than on these occasions, when John would dismiss him to the foot of the bed afterwards like a worthless whore.

 

 

“Hurry up with those dishes and come into my office.” John curtly stood up from the dining table and departed before Brandon could give his acknowledgment. That’s how things often were these past few days since the… incident. John would give Brandon an order—not a request, not anymore—then depart to tend to his own business without care.

Brandon made quick work of the dishes. John didn’t like for him to take long to do things, especially when he was waiting for him.

John looked at the time when Brandon came in. “It took you twenty-seven minutes to wash the dishes.”  

Brandon lowered his head. “I’m sorry. One of the pots had food stuck in it and—”

“I didn’t ask for your excuse.” He beckoned the boy forward. “Come here.”

Brandon closed the door behind him and approached. John snatched him by the wrist as he came around the desk and turned him around, so his backside was to him. He yanked the vibrator from Brandon’s hole without so much as a warning causing the boy to jerk and cry out. He attempted, instinctively, to pull away from the man, but John pulled him back.

“I didn’t say you could go anywhere, did I, baby?” There was the usual bite, this time followed with a sneer that put Brandon to shame.

“I’m sorr—” Brandon nearly bit into his tongue as he clenched his teeth, cutting himself off with a surprised squeal. John shifted his hold from Brandon’s wrist to his upper arm to keep him still. He twisted his fingers in the boy’s tender hole, spreading him open and getting a sense of how prepared he was. That was another one of John’s new rules; Brandon always had to be prepared for him. It was one reason why he wasn’t allowed without a toy inside him, that and John like the way it looked. Brandon was no longer allowed to wear clothes, not as long as he was in the apartment that is—and that was all the time now—, so the man often had an uninterrupted view of a large silicon dildo stretching out Brandon’s raw boy-pussy. A lot of time, John would just throw things on the floor.

“Pick it up,” he would demand, and Brandon would without protest, bending over and revealing a tender cunt stretched wide around silicon. It was delicious.

John unzipped his pants and whipped out his massive cock. “Bend over and suck it until it’s hard.”

Brandon nodded timidly as he leaned over and got to work, sucking on the head for a bit before sucking most of the soft cock down his throat. John watched with mild interest. His fingers never left Brandon’s pussy, thrusting in and out and scissoring them apart. Every so often his attention would drift back to the emails he was checking, and every so often his would crook his fingers and dig mercilessly into Brandon’s abused prostate.

Brandon stopped his sucking to cringe and groan.

“Who told you to stop?” John pulled his fingers out of Brandon long enough to give him a firm few spankings.

Brandon gave a gurgled apology, the head of John’s cock wedged in the side of his mouth.

When John was hard enough, he gave Brandon another slap on the ass. “Get up and sit on my cock.”

Another obedient nod and Brandon climbed into John’s lap. With a trembling hand, Brandon lined John’s throbbing cock up with his open twitching hole.

“I’m waiting,” John huffed.

Brandon bit his lip. This would hurt. It would hurt before it got better, he knew this. It’s been like this since John started constantly punishing his hole. But despite the expected strain, Brandon’s pussy still clenched and twitched in anticipation. Maybe this was what John wanted, to have his hole so accustomed to being filled that it couldn’t stand when it was empty.  

Brandon gasped long and low as he impaled himself on John’s cock. His body trembled and his eyes rolled back into his head as his eyelids fluttered. So good. Even with the throbbing pain, John’s cock felt so good!

Brandon didn’t hesitate to start bouncing on John’s rod, perching his feet on the edge of John’s chair so he had enough leverage to throw himself up and down on his cock.

“ _Stop._ ”

Brandon yelped when John smacked his thigh. “I didn’t tell you to start pleasuring yourself, did I?”

He grabbed onto Brandon’s waist and forced him back down onto his cock. Brandon blacked out for a second.

“Now _sit_ still while I answer these emails, and don’t make a sound.”

The boy quivered, his body being split open on John’s girth. “O—okay. I’m sorry.” He choked out.

Brandon sat obediently in John’s lap after that. He stared blankly at the screen, trying his best to ignore the way his ass gripped and throbbing around the cock spearing up into his core. His feet fidgeted as he watched John reply to company emails.  Every so often he’d squirm on the man’s cock, causing it to rub against his twitching insides. Brandon bit into his finger at the friction and squirmed again.

This earned him another hard smack against the thigh. “What did I just say, Brandon?” John gripped Brandon by the chin and forced him to look back at him. “Have you forgotten already, _honey_? You don’t get to disobey me anymore; not even a little bit.” His grip tightened. Brandon winced against the discomfort. “You're only purpose is to make me feel good, and that's it. Understand?”

Brandon whimpered. “Yes sir.”

John went back to working on his computer after that, typing out mundane response after mundane response. And Brandon, regardless of how sexually charged he was, how wanting he now was to be pounded senseless, hung his head low and waited dolefully until John was done.

As he waited, Brandon couldn’t help but think about Liam. What was the boy doing right now? Did he ever make it back home, and if he did, was there anyone waiting for him? More importantly, was Liam happy now? Brandon truly hope so. Even after every mean thing that Liam did and said to him, the boy still wished he was happy. Did that make him pathetic?

‘Probably.’  Brandon thought sadly.  

John stood, bringing Brandon up with him. The man had just finished checking his emails and immediately after started fucking the boy, bending him over on the desk and plowing him into the metal.

“You like this, don’t you? You like me stretching you open on my cock, pounding your pretty little pussy until you cry, huh?”

Brandon clawed at the desk. “Yes sir!” he stammered.

John gripped his growing curly hair, forcing his head back. “And why is that?” he panted.

“Be—because—” He bit back his words as he quivered and came. Splatters of semen dripped onto his feet and the floor. John tsked.

“Answer the question. Why do you think you like my cock so much?”

“Because I’m a naughty slut.” Brandon whined. Having come, the fog of pleasure was quickly dissipating, allowing his previous pain and discomfort to come back tenfold. He clenched his teeth against it and grasped at anything within reach.  

“That’s right,” John rasped. “Frankly, you don’t deserve this generous fucking. You don’t even deserve this roof that I’m keeping over your fucking head or the food that I continue to give you, especially after that dumbass stunt that you pulled last week.”

His rapid thrusts stuttered with his oncoming orgasm. “Yet here we are. I really am a nice—erg—guy!”

He stilled, holding Brandon tightly by the hips as he came thick spurts inside the boy’s hole.  

Brandon gasped. John’s cum, it felt so good filling him up! He wanted—no needed more! It’s all he could think about everyday all day; John’s cock and John’s cum filling his pathetic unworthy cunt. He had become addicted to it, especially after a week of being forced to keep the man’s spunk inside him after every degrading fuck.  

John gave his ass a quick slap. “Don’t let it spill out.” He pulled out and quickly replaced his cock with the vibrator, something to help the boy keep his semen where it belonged until he could get the anal plug.

Brandon turned to face the man. He maintained eye contact as he sunk down to his knees and cleaned his cock like a dutiful whore.

John grinned and patted his head. “Good slut.” He hummed. Brandon beamed.

lXl

He was getting used to this. Every morning, Brandon would make John breakfast, usually something quick like toast and bacon (coffee too—John taught him how to make coffee). While his loving John ate, Brandon would get down underneath the table and keep his cock warm in his mouth, sucking him off until he came in his mouth if John requested. Then, he would kiss John goodbye and see him off.

Afterwards, he did the dishes and cleaned up any mess that he made while giving John his morning blowjob. Then the boy went about his usual house duties, vacuuming the rugs, moping the floors, dusting, etc. These duties weren’t unlike the ones he had to do back home.

Most of his siblings were too young to do proper housework and do them well, and with Al gone to work most of the day and his mom either out with her friends or getting pampered (or just being generally lazy) most of the cleaning fell on Brandon’s lankly shoulders. At least now he was rewarded with a sloppy tongued kiss if he did well.

If he had free time after doing all his housework, Brandon was allowed to relax. John had installed cameras around the house so he could watch over Brandon while he wasn’t home (John was such a good lover, making sure Brandon stayed safe), so he knew whenever Brandon slacked off. If that happened, John would punish the boy.

Once, Brandon took a break from cleaning due to his sore hips. He started watching a movie on TV and lost track of time. John saw all of this and he was so mad when he got home. He dragged Brandon kicking and pleading to his closet where he hit and chocked the boy until he nearly fainted. John stuffed him with so many vibrators, anal beads and dildos that Brandon was afraid that his insides would collapse from the strain. He latched a cock ring around his dick and tied a vibrating egg around the shaft. Two more eggs were taped to his nipples and he wedged a ball gag in between the boy’s teeth.

John tied ropes into his skin and stuffed him into his closet, in the dark where he sat for… Brandon actually didn’t know how long he was there. He lost all concept of time in that dark place, headphones over his ears to help take away his senses.

By the time the man released him, Brandon was a shaking sniveling mess. He couldn’t stand, his limps felt like they were full of static, and he was hysterical, so much so that he couldn’t form actual words.

When Brandon was finally able to move, he crawled to John on his hands and knees and kissed his feet and mouthed at his cock through his pants, weeping all the while, until the man forgave him and brutally fucked him until the boy fainted.

Needless to say, Brandon never slacked off again.

It was afternoon when Brandon started doing laundry. He was putting John’s casual clothes—his suits and such were dry clean only—in the washing machine when he noticed something odd mixed into the bunch. It was a baby blue cardigan… Liam’s cardigan.

Brandon fell to his knees. He brought the clothing to his nose, breathing in the scent as he wept into the fabric.

He should have hated him—any sensible person would have—but Brandon couldn’t. He just… couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself to feel any sense of resentment for Liam, he was unable to. Instead, all he felt was grief.  

lXl

“You’re getting better, baby.”

Brandon jumped, startled by what he just heard. John had called him baby, and it was genuine!

John took another bite of the store-bought lasagna into his mouth, the one he got for Brandon to make him tonight.

“Sure, your cooking isn’t the best,” Brandon’s mood deflated a bit, “But you’re definitely getting better.” He patted the side of Brandon’s naked leg.

Brandon grinned. “Thank you! I—I’ve been trying.”

John chuckled and it made Brandon’s heart flutter. “I can tell. Even your blowjobs have improved, and I love the way you’ve started rolling your hips when you’re riding me.” Another pause as John took in another fork full. “In other words, I’m proud of you, Brandon.”

John’s free hand moved up and down Brandon’s side as he praised him and moved up to fumble a perked nipple. Brandon moaned sweetly, arching into John’s hand.

“Th— thank you, sir.”

John cleaned his mouth with his napkin. “Who would’ve thought that all I had to do was get rid of Liam.”

Brandon’s breath caught in his throat and tensed.

John noticed. “Do you miss him, baby? Your friend?”

It had been a month since Liam left, and John would be lying if he hadn’t wondered how his sweetheart was cooping.

Brandon bit into his lip. He shook his head. “No sir. I’m happy as long as I’m with you.”

This earned the boy another squeeze to his nipple. “Good.” The man cleared his throat. “You know, I think this progress of yours deserves a reward. I’m free this weekend. How about we go out, get pizza and ice cream. This new arcade opened nearby. I’ll take you there for how good you’ve been.”

Brandon turned around in John’s lap, his cock shifting inside of him. He winced. “R—really? Thank you, John! I—I mean sir.”

John shook his head. “Don’t worry, baby. I think you’ve earned the right to call me John again.”

They kissed then, tongues twisting and lips smacking loudly. John spit into the boy's mouth, Brandon swallowed the glob without hesitation and grinning.

John smirked. "That's my boy," he purred and, as a reward, he allowed Brandon to ride his cock before they had dessert.

lXl

John took Brandon to get pancakes for breakfast the day of their big date (or at least, that is what Brandon called it.)

The waitress, a pleasant looking older woman with greying hair and plump cheeks, clicked her pen and smiled at the secret couple. “Have you two sweeties decided what you want?”

John waited a second, wanting to see if Brandon would dare to order first without permission. When he didn’t, John smiled proudly.

“I’ll have the breakfast scramble. I want everything that usually comes with it, except for scrambled eggs instead of fried.”

The waitress scribbled down his order in her small notepad. “And what do you want, cutie?” she asked Brandon.

Brandon’s eyes flickered up to John, who simply nodded, letting him know that it was okay to speak up.

Brandon cleared his throat. “May I please have some waffles and bacon?”   

The waitress nodded. “What about the eggs, hun? You want them fried or scrambled?”

“Scrambled please. And with extra cheese…please?”

The waitress nodded again and clicked her pen thrice. “Sounds good!” She gestured towards John. “Your boy is so polite!” she squealed.

Brandon blushed, slouching back into his seat in embarrassment.

John chuckled. “What do you say when someone gives you a compliment, _son_?”

Brandon squirmed against the red plastic seating. That hungry look in John’s eyes was too much too bear. The man was enjoying this way too much.

“T—thank you.” Brandon sputtered. John grinned.

“You’re very much welcome, sweetheart!” the waitress chirped, none the wiser to what was really going on. “Now let me go and place your order with the cooks. I’ll be right back!”

But neither of her customers heard her.

“Brandon, does your stomach hurt?” John inquired.

Brandon was puzzled so the man elaborated. “Well, if your stomach hurt, then you’d need to run off to the bathroom. And what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t come with you to make sure you’re okay?”

The light flickered on in Brandon’s head.

John gestured to their waitress. “Excuse me, ma’am, but where’s your restroom? My boy is suddenly not feeling so hot.”

The waitress’ brows knitted together with concern. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that!” It’s down that way, on the right.” She said pointing.

lXl

“That’s it, you slut, work that ass.”

John slapped his boy’s ass and watched it bounce bright red.

Brandon shuddered and moaned. This was too much. Someone could come in at any minute and hear them fucking, hear his whines and the thick slapped of sweating skin against skin, and know that whoever was in here was being thoroughly owned. They’d know that whoever was pleading to be fucked harder, to have their cunt absolutely wrecked was nothing more than a desperate slut. And they’d be right. Brandon had been convinced, especially in these past few weeks, that this is truly what he was made for, and this theory was made certain when he suddenly realized that he didn’t care if they were caught. The boy wouldn’t even care if someone kicked in the bathroom door right now and saw him throwing his ass back onto John’s cock like there was no tomorrow.

Brandon rolled his hips back on John’s cock earning himself another smack. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, daddy, hurt me!” He licked his lips and looked back at the flushed, tensed expression on his lover’s—no his Master’s face.

John felt himself unraveling. Too fast. He was coming undone too fast; too close to losing himself in his boy’s body. Brandon’s filthy begging wasn’t helping either. _Shit_ , the man wasn’t so sure if Brandon’s transformation into his perfect slut was good or bad. On one hand, he was everything the man could ever want in a personal whore. On the other, however, it was times like this that he felt a slave to the boy’s body.

“You fucking slut,” John rasped. “You want me to hurt you? Want me to make you scream loud enough for the whole damn restaurant to hear you.”

John gripped Brandon by the throat and started slamming into the smaller body without remorse, rutting like an animal into the delicious boy cunt, stretching it to its limits around his throbbing monster cock.

 Starts burst before Brandon’s eyes. His breathing hitched and his brain short circuited, turning any begging into incoherent babbling that tumbled pass his lips.

 “Imagine what that waitress would think. That 'sweet' boy from her section getting owned like this; getting fucked over a toilet like the sick slut you are." He licked his lips and began to piston in and out of that sloppy needy cunt.

"Bet you'd like that. I could throw you out there right now and let everyone see how disgusting you really all, hard and gaping and rutting like a bitch in heat, and you'd still be hard."

Brandon's cocklet twitched at the thought. All those strangers stopping in the middle of their breakfast just to gawk at him as he got his ass destroyed by John. He groaned something pitiful, the scenario playing out in his head almost being enough to push him over the edge. 

John pulled Brandon back into a hard thrust. Brandon’s teeth jolted together to bite back a moan. His arms trembled in front of him as they struggled to keep him up for much longer.

John leaned forward, pushing Brandon’s shirt up so that he could kiss up along his arched spine. “You’re never going to be the same without me, baby.” He mouthed against the skin. His thrusts had been reduced to grinding. “You’ll never be able to live without my cock in you, tearing you open, pummeling your pretty little pussy. Will you?”

Brandon had to focus hard to form a decent thought. “N—no. My pussy is only for you, sir. I—” He stopped, body seizing and jerking until, with a sharp shiver, he came. His screams of pleasure echoed out against the bathroom tiles until it was all he could hear above the ringing in his ears.

His knees buckled and his body collapsed, his vision going black for a moment. John caught him before he could fall atop the toilet, and held him up, doubling over the small body, as he pounded out his own orgasm.

John came with a snarling growl, pumping semen into his boy’s cunt. When he was through, he pulled out and admired the way he leaked from Brandon’s pussy, dripping down onto the toilet seat below.

“Fucking gorgeous.”

lXl

After breakfast they went to see a movie, and after that the couple went to play laser tag. Then there was ice cream in the park followed by a quick blowjob behind some bushes.

As day turned into night, John marked the end of their day out by taking Brandon to a tattoo parlor.

Brandon was rightfully confused and suspicious as they entered through a graffitied side door and into a dark eerily lit room. Loud heavy metal poured from the hidden stereo speakers, and the whole interior smelled off rubbing alcohol and stale cigarette smoke.

“Can I help you?” A woman covered head to toe in colorful tattoos eyed them.

“I’m here to see Dean.” John replied. “Tell him John is here to see him.”

The woman sighed. She pushed up from the wall and ventured through a door further down the hall.

While she was gone, Brandon tugged on John’s arm. “Um, what are we doing here?”

John smiled. “We’re here because I want to give you a little something. Something to mark the day you truly became mine.”

That wide predator look was back in his eyes. It made Brandon tremble and made a lustful heat pool in the pit of his abdomen.

The woman soon returned. “He’ll be with you in a second.” She held out her hand. “Payment up front.”

John reached into his wallet and retrieved a stack of cash. “Tell him to hurry up. I don’t have all night,” he said as he slapped the money into the woman’s hand.

“Mm-hm. Whatever.”

lXl

“John!” A big burly man enveloped John in a bear hug. “Haven’t seen your perverted ass in a minute! How you been, man?”

John shrugged and adjusted his jacket. “Same thing as usual; fucking and working.”

The man let out a hollering laugh. “I hear that! I got your text.” The man leaned in real close to John. “So, you got another one, huh?”

“Of course.” John stepped aside to reveal a nervous Brandon. “Brandon, meet Dean. Dean, meet my new sweetheart, Brandon.”

Dean towered over Brandon; truly towered. He was taller than even John with piercings and tattoos galore and a long thick greying beard and beady eyes beneath thick brows.

Dean examined the boy for a moment, and Brandon stared up uncertainly at him, glancing every so often at John.

Dean’s thick hand shot forward making Brandon flinch. Dean grinned. “Put it there, boy!”

Brandon hesitated, but shook his hand.

“So, I hear you’re here for a special procedure, huh?”

Brandon looked to John.

“I didn’t tell him what was happening,” John confessed. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

Dean huffed, nostrils flaring out. “Of course, you ain’t tell him. That would’ve been too simple.” He grumbled.

Dean motioned Brandon to his work chair and sat next to him in a seemingly too small rolling chair.

“Well, Brandon, since this bastard John won’t let you in on it, I’ll go ahead and let you know that you’re here to get your nipple pierced.”

Brandon was startled. “My—my—my—huh?!”

Brandon looked to John with pure panic.

John placed his hand on his shoulder. “Calm down, baby,” he insisted. “It’s just two little piercings; real quick, just a little way to show who you belong to while you’re with me.”

Dean straightened himself in his chair. “Too be honest, it’s way better than them tattoos some of these fuckers have me put on these boys. At least when you two are done for, you can take it out.”

Still, Brandon was petrified and trembled terribly.

“Hey hey, Brandon, it’s okay.” John kissed the boy on the forehead. “You want to be mine, don’t you?”

Brandon nodded.

“And you would want people to know you were mine, right?”

Again, the boy nodded.

“Then let Dean do this. He’s going to place a small metal hoop right through your pretty little nipples and that metal hoop is going to have a little charm with my initials on it. After that, you will finally belong to me and no one else.”

John caressed the boy’s cheek. “Does that sound good baby?”

A tear rolled down Brandon’s cheek which the boy quickly wiped away. “Okay…" he whimpered. "I’ll do it.”

lXl

It hurt. It hurt so much. Brandon would be lying if he said he didn’t cry as Dean pushed the needle through his nipples—one, then the other. Thankfully, John held his hand through it all and when it was finally over. John leaned down and kissed right below each piercing.

Brandon hissed from the pain.

“Hush now, baby.” John said. “It’s over now.” He petted his boy’s head until the whimpering subsided.

As the boy calmed down, he noticed that John had gotten hard during the process. Brandon's mouth salivated despite the pain and discomfort he still felt. He wanted the man's cock. He wanted it so much. 

John watched with shock as Brandon grabbed for the front of his pants, his eyes large and wanting. He thought briefly about making him beg but considering what he just went through, the man decided to have mercy for his sweet little boy.

“Open up, Brandon.”

With one hand on the back of his head, John fed his cock into his boy’s mouth. Brandon relaxed his jaw and allowed himself to be used, skull fucked and his throat abused.

"That's it, slut, take it deep." John’s grip tightened in Brandon’s curls. He chasing his release, fucking hard into the quivering throat, getting so close to finishing. 

When John came, it was on Brandon’s face. Off-white streaked across the boy’s cheeks, across his closed eyelids and down his chin. Some of it was caught in Brandon’s open mouth.

John stumbled back, chest heaving and beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. Dean was speechless. He gaped at Brandon, lying back in his chair, face peaceful and angelic except for the semen covering him.

The tattoo artist cleared his throat. “You-- uh-- sure found one hell of a boy, John.”

John laughed, breathless and wheezing. “Yeah. He really is something, huh?”

Brandon didn’t hear any of this though, his mind floating in that perverse headspace, wondering what it would take to have both men ruin him. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why, but I'm doubting my sex scenes for this work. Did I include enough of them? Were they good enough? I don't know what's going on with me right now. I have, however, written summaries for the rest of this series. The next addition will be focused on Liam and what happened to him after he left John’s apartment. Just a warning, it won’t be for the faint of heart. Some pretty dark shit is going to go down, so be prepared. 
> 
> Until then, please have a nice day or night and I'll see you guys next time!


End file.
